


Wait for Me

by Lifewriter



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Death, F/F, F/M, M/M, Marvin centric, Mendel is pretty awkward, One Year Later, Sadness, Sickness, Tight-Knit family, Trina and Marvin have reconciled, Whizzer's already dead, death isn't all that bad, happy ending i guess, non-canon death, not gonna lie this is kind of sad, progression of sickness, sad for most of it but the ending isn't so bad, tags may be added later?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifewriter/pseuds/Lifewriter
Summary: [ Alternate title: In Sickness and In Health ]A sickness can be confusing and frightening when it's happening to someone else, as you watch them suffer and wither away, but Marvin never could've prepared himself to be put in the same place his lover had been in only a year prior.





	Wait for Me

 

He didn't really remember much. It was hard enough to understand what was going on when it was happening to someone else, but to have the same thing start inside your own body. Did he want to understand? Not really. A part of him knew what was coming, but refused to believe it for himself. It was a sad way of pretending death wasn't standing at your door. 

The hospital bed was bigger than he remembered it being. Then again, he hadn't been here for nearly a year, but life was funny - and rather cruel - like that. His body ached all over, and he could feel his strength fading with each passing moment, just laying there, staring nearly dead-eyed up at the ceiling. 

He had first collapsed about two weeks ago. He had been doing house work, like normal. He had felt odd pangs of pain when he hadn't been doing anything really, which made him refrain from doing anything too taxing. 

Yet, sweeping apparently had been too much. 

It had been a Friday when it happened. Which may not seem like it held any significance. 

His legs had given out on him, and he'd dropped to the ground, heaving, like breathing had become the most difficult thing in the world. It hurt, to do anything, so he stayed on the ground, panting and shaking. 

His phone had buzzed, multiple times and he had been unable to even reach up and grab for it.

The silence would ring in his ears like bells and then the buzzing and the ringing of a small tune would cut into it. He would feel sick, and weak and pathetic. He couldn't do anything to help himself. He stayed there, knelt on the ground, eyes watering as his stomach heaved and tried to throw up whatever was left. Which was mostly just stomach acid, saliva and what looked to be blood.

He felt cold all over. His throat hurt, his chest burned with every cough. His breathing was jagged and laboured. It was all so familiar, yet, he hadn't been the one going through it at the time. 

The phone to his left kept ringing and it hurt to listen to every time. The tune was persistent. Then it stopped. For a good long time. As he stayed there on the ground.

The door handle jiggled and before long, he saw two worried people entering his apartment. His attention wasn't lasting on something for long, but he knew enough to recognize them as his ex-wife and son. Trina freaked out, yanking out her phone and dialled 911, calling helplessly for an ambulance as fast as possible while Jason rushed to his side. Focusing was difficult.

Upon hearing the ruckus, it brought over his dear neighbour Cordelia, as Charlotte was at work. The girl flipped her shit when she saw him on the ground. Before long, he felt himself being helped into a stand, his legs shaking beneath him, and soon Trina was by his side as well, keeping him upright. 

He knew what was happening, it had happened before, and it wasn't good.

Minutes passed before sirens were heard outside and people were rushing up the stairs with a stretcher. He tried to tell them that he could get down there by himself. He tried to defend himself, to which Trina scolded him and Cordelia looked like she was going to cry. Jason, he watched his son as they laid the weaker male onto the stretcher, looked terrified. The reality of what was happening was setting in, and he could read the terror clear on his kid's face. 

He smiled weakly. 

So, here he was, hooked up to different machines with an IV tube stuck in his arm. He wasn't unresponsive, which was proved by the few times friends and family would come in to visit him. 

There would be chatter and pained laughter that would turn into hacking coughs and then he'd be babied again. Charlotte looked terrified, each and every time she came into the room. It was like she was trying to keep herself from sobbing. She knew this scene. She had seen it a year before. She had probably seen it plenty of times before that, but they were close. Just as the first victim had been. 

He hadn't made it through this, but there had always been the unsaid promise that they were doing everything in their power to find a cure to this unknown disease. As that's what it was. It wasn't curable. If it ever would be curable, it certainly wouldn't be now. So, he wasn't getting his hopes up. Not now. 

It was still strange seeing his family now. Mendel was still awkward as ever, smiling nervously and trying to talk to him. Trying to, and failing, make him feel better.

Marvin laughed every time someone told him he would be okay. Every single time.

He would tell them they were wrong, that getting better wasn't an option. He watched his lover die in the same fashion, and if they could still look him in the eye and tell him he was going to be fine, then they could go and fuck themselves. 

Every day he grew weaker, each passing moment he was debating on whether this would be his last day or not. He wouldn't be surprised if he just dropped off anymore. In fact, he was almost welcoming by this time.

Jason would come in every day, as often as he could. He would tell him about school, about baseball practice, about how he had friends again and they would hang out and laugh and talk. The kid cried every time. 

He would sink farther into the hospital bed. The conversations they had were almost always one sided, but only because Jason would be trying to hold back his tears, and Marvin would be talking to him whether or not he was listening to him. He would go on and on talking about nothing in particular and Jason would plead him to get some sleep. 

Deja vu always hit him hard at that.

Marvin would tell him to go back home to his mother and Mendel. Jason would grab for his hand and beg him to get better. Beg Charlotte to find a cure, to find someway to save him from what was coming. Charlotte could never answer the kid. 

“Marvin,” Trina's voice startled him out of his staring contest with the ceiling, and he turned to see her red, glassy eyes. “Why don't you get some sleep?”

He chuckled weakly, coughing for only a second before collecting himself again. “If I sleep, I'm not waking up again.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at that remark, before sitting down in the chair right next to his bed. She reached for his hand and a part of him wanted to pull away from her delicate touch. It just made this that much harder. “Don't talk like that,” she murmured to him, and he watched as more tears welled within the depths of her eyes. “Jason needs you here.”

If Marvin could change the fact that he was dying, just so he could stick around for Jason, he would.

He smiled instead, but it held no mirth, like it once had. “I know,” he spoke to her, stormy blue eyes watching hers. “You know it's over for me Trina. Don't kid yourself.”

“Stop it,” she told him, but her voice held no sharpness. There was hurt. He could read it like an open book. “They're going to-- they will, they'll..” And then she was breaking down again. Hiding her face in her arms. He felt a pang in his chest as he watched her sob by his bedside. Unable to stop it. Whenever she cried during their marriage, he didn't care enough to do jack all about it, and now as she cried here, he  _ couldn't _ do jack all about it. “I never wanted something like this for you,” she whispered and Marvin blinked. Her hand tightened on his. “You should be living a long life. Whizzer and you, being domestic. You both deserved so much more than this.”

He was unsure if she actually meant this or not, or if she was just saying this to try and make him feel worse. It wasn't helping either way.

But the reminder that his lover was on the other side waiting for him was what gave him peace with this situation. “It'll be fine, Trina,” he told her, causing the woman to look up, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks. 

She was ushered out minutes later. 

He wasn't dead yet, and he felt like had a little while longer before he would be. Did it surprise him? Not really, but something that did happen to surprise him, that once curfew had settled and the doctors had made their rounds for the night, at least, for now, the chair by his bedside was no longer empty. Instead, there sat a familiar man.  Looking just as he had when he had first met him. Handsome, bright-eyed. Dressed to the nines like he always was. 

Someone that Marvin hadn't seen in a year, and it prompted a rather sad smile from him. 

“It's good to see you again, Whizzer,” he voiced his thoughts after a moment of silence, eyes moving over the form of his lover. 

“You look like shit,” Whizzer replied without any heat, trying to - not so discreetly - distract himself from the the tragedy at hand.

A faint quirk of the corners of his lips, the sick male chuckled. Not for long though. Feeling an unfortunately familiar heave in his chest and he winced. Trying to keep from another coughing fit was to no avail. Blood appeared again, as he raised a hand to wipe it from his lips, yet he didn't flinch at the sudden sight when he pulled his hand back. It did make his partner uneasy though.

The brunette dropped his gaze, but Marvin kept watching him, just relieved to see him again after all this time alone. “I'm sorry,” his brown eyes stayed locked downwards. “If I knew this was going to happen, that I was going to get you sick, Jesus Marv-”

“Stop,” Marvin cut him off. He wanted to reach over and grab for his hand. He wouldn't be able to hold it, but he held his hand out to him anyways. Whizzer saw the motion and as useless as he knew it would be, he rested his hand in his partner's. “I would rather this, than live the rest of my life without you.”

The brown eyes were filling with tears and he was trying not to let it out. Marvin's eyes stayed dry, pleased to see that he was even there. It was a thought that truly did give him peace. Trina was right. He was  _ going  _ to live a long life. He was  _ going _ to get to be with someone so special to him again. 

“Just get some sleep,” Whizzer advised him. “I'll stay right here.”

Marvin didn’t do as he was told immediately, instead, he pretended he was really holding the dark-eyed man’s hand. “You’ll wait for me, right?”

Whizzer expressed a sad look, but, giving a gentle nod, he smiled weakly. “I promise.”

He had tilted his head away, back to looking up towards the white ceiling above him. The longer he stared, the farther away it felt. Sighing deeply, he let his exhausted form relax into the rather uncomfortable bed.

Falling asleep had been easier that night than it had been in all of his time spent in the hospital.

\- - - 

The day came and went.

A week later.

Marvin had been surrounded by family. Jason was clutching to his hand tightly, Trina had her face hidden in Mendel's shoulder, while she held their son. Charlotte had been trying to stay strong for everyone while Cordelia had been knelt beside his bed, smiling terrified towards him, an arm around Jason's shoulder. 

Whizzer was there too, standing at the foot of his bed. 

The world was starting to grow darker and his breathing was beginning to still. As the others kept their eyes on him, Marvin's eyes were locked onto his lover. Even if the others couldn't see him, it didn't matter. He was right there. 

He was going to help. 

Death wasn't as scary as everyone made it out to be. It was more of a relief when Marvin saw darkness instead of the broken faces of his tight-knit family.

He felt good.  _ Safe _ . 

He really did.

As he reopened his eyes, he was no longer surrounded by family and friends. He was no longer being cried over. At least not from what he could see. 

His eyes began to adjust a little bit better to this new place and he saw a large gate in front of him. Golden bars stretching far over his head. There was a green pasture laying behind it, but that wasn't what caught his attention initially. The way it shone in the bright sunlight. He could stand again, and nothing ached. He checked his hands and clothes and he was relieved to find that there was no halo and there were no wings.

He was just himself.

Red hoodie, white shirt underneath and jeans that he knew Whizzer would’ve thrown a fit over.

Although, when he looked back towards the gates, he noticed a familiar face standing there. His hands tucked into his pockets. Teal shirt, long legs and a stupidly attractive smirk on his handsome face.

His body reacted before his mind did.

Marvin had broken into a quick sprint and before he knew it, he was throwing himself into the arms of a prepared Whizzer. His hands dug into the shirt the man was wearing and he buried his face into his neck, cradling him. 

“I promised I'd wait for you,” Whizzer mumbled into his hair, and Marvin sobbed loudly. 

Sure, his last few days had been insufferable and agonizing. Forcing himself through coughing fits, and the quiet reminder that his body was shutting down. 

And the year prior to his collapse had been so full of grief, heartbreak and sleepless nights.

He swore that nothing could top the feeling of being able to hold the love of his life again. He was young, they were happy, everything would be alright.

This was what death was.

Death wasn't terror or sadness. 

It was relief. 

When they finally pulled away, Marvin pulled Whizzer down into a kiss. It was passionate and wanting. It was to show all of the misery he had felt throughout the year. It was to show his love, his yearning, his brokenness. It showed everything he couldn't express in words. Whizzer's head tilted to the side and Marvin did the same, following his lead. His hands twisted into the teal shirt the taller brunette was wearing and his partner pulled him as physically close to his body as he could.

He pulled back a bit, teary eyed and beaming. “I love you,” he whispered, cupping Whizzer's face between his hands, murmuring it against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

Whizzer chuckled, a grin on his features, but he was just as emotional. His eyes were damp, as he pressed his lips to Marvin's again. They had a full year of lost time to make up for. “I love you too.”

They didn't separate, not until Marvin found himself sniffling again. Trying to regain his composure.

Only four words punctuated the silence they shared, and they were murmured softly, showing how truly touched he was that his request had been kept;

“Thank you for waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story is technically sad (but I pretty much just wrote it to see if I could get any emotions from a good friend of mine, needless to say, I did and now I'm posting it here lmao, she's usually pretty unbreakable so I'm feeling pretty accomplished), but either way, it was fun to get to explore some different ideas and thoughts. I mean, this is certainly a possible outcome post-canon.
> 
> It was also a lot of character exploration for me, because there's certainly a lot more to Marvin than what meets the eye! So, it was focused pretty much solely on him for just that reason. That and I love writing for this fandom. I hope to do some more in-depth character studies.
> 
> Thanks a bunch for checking out my story! Kudos, comments and feedback keeps me inspired! You all make me a better writer!
> 
> Cheers.


End file.
